


Green Light

by Carmenlire



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Business Rivals, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Good Parent Asmodeus (Shadowhunter Chronicles), M/M, Mundane Magnus Bane/Mundane Alec Lightwood, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 09:13:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19104124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmenlire/pseuds/Carmenlire
Summary: Grinning, Magnus pulls back to see bright eyes watching him. He studies the five o’clock shadow grazing the stranger’s jaw and barely represses another shudder of want.Absently, he wonders if he’s just found his distraction for the night, one last opportunity to throw caution to the wind until he has to shift gears tomorrow morning and focus on family expectations and avoiding Camille and making the last few months of college count in all the most terrifying ways before graduation comes and he’s officially thrust into the world.Without thinking too much about it, Magnus takes one of the shot glasses and hands it to the man with an arch look.A challenge. An offer.





	Green Light

The room is spinning but it’s nice, the way Magnus can feel the bass in his chest and see the neon lights even when he closes his eyes.

He feels weightless and it’s everything that he’d been hoping for when he’d left the house a few hours ago, desperate for escape.

 _Goddamn Camille_ , he thinks with a shudder of revulsion-- and the tiniest twinge of regret. He’d broken up with her this morning after Ragnor had shown him photo evidence of her with another man, yet again.

She hadn’t even denied anything, just given a little unrepentant shrug. There was a challenge lurking in her cool eyes and Magnus couldn’t help but wonder how many times he was going to let her play him for a fool.

Abruptly over it all, he’d ended things in no uncertain terms, right outside of Bowman Hall where they both had Introduction to Anthropology Tuesday and Thursday mornings.

With a wry grimace, Magnus wonders just how awkward class is going to be next week when they inevitably run into each other-- because Magnus’s life has never been what anyone would call convenient.

Shaking his head, Magnus deliberately empties his mind. Tonight was about forgetting Camille, not simmering in dread at the prospect of dealing with her again.

He makes his way to the bar. He’s a little unsteady on his feet and it’s been ages since he let himself indulge so much. It was his senior year and with graduation just a few months away, Magnus was inundated with term papers and group projects and trying to decide what his next step should be once he had his diploma in hand.

His father has been urging him to follow in his footsteps and while the thought doesn’t fill him with a spark of longing, it’s not the worst idea Magnus has ever considered.

Sighing a little, Magnus wonders just how hungover hes going to be tomorrow. His father had insisted that he gain some hands-on experience at the company this semester, test the waters and get his feet wet in a way that Magnus had managed to avoid so far.

Tomorrow morning, Magnus was joining his father for a meeting with, ostensibly, a business rival. The two companies have been brokering an uneasy peace the past year or so, though, and Magnus was being brought on board as a trial run. He’d be working with his counterpart to compromise a business agreement between the two companies. It would involve long hours with his counterpart-- the heir to the illustrious Lightwood Enterprises.

One Alexander Lightwood.

Mouth turning down into a sneer for a moment, Magnus clears his expression and gets the bartender’s attention, ordering four shots of Fireball. As he watches the bartender reach for glasses, Magnus reflects glumly that he’d never met the man but his reputation definitely left something to be desired.

Magnus doesn’t know how much of what he’s heard is just from the source-- there was certainly no love lost between the Lightwoods and Asmodeus-- but based on what he’s heard from friends at Columbia, Alec was snobbish and cold and entirely unpleasant.

 _A proverbial stick in the mud_ , Magnus thinks and for the dozenth time, resigns himself to spending an inordinate amount of time with Lightwood until graduation in May. Alexander was set to start training to take over from his parents in June, right after graduation, and this was his own sort of test to check his merit as eventual CEO of one of the biggest tech firms in the city.

The Lightwoods were well known in New York and had been since the turn of the century. Old money, they were major players in the area and their dispositions were known to be so polite as to verge on icy. Like any other family with too much tradition hanging around their necks, they looked down at anyone who didn’t fit their extremely narrow view of acceptable upbringing. Magnus couldn’t count the number of times Asmodeus had told him about dealing with Maryse, the matriarch, and her chilly, supercilious attitude. 

Magnus figures the apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree.

That’s not until tomorrow morning, though, and Magnus has much better things to do with his last night of freedom before he becomes Bane Industries latest errand boy, albeit with a nice corner office a floor below his father's. Determined to enjoy the next few hours, Magnus hands his credit card over to the bartender to open a tab and moves to collect the shots. In his mind, just the tiniest bit muddled with top shelf vodka, Magnus doesn’t have a care in the world about getting the glasses to his friends at their table in the corner.

This isn’t his first rodeo, after all, and he’s all that’s grace and elegance even when three sheets to the wind.

It’s just his luck, then, when he carefully gathers the shots of fireball and turns, just for his shoulder to collide with someone else’s. It’s a near thing but he doesn’t drop them, instead managing to hang on through sheer willpower until he can turn back towards the bar and set the down, a little clumsily.

The glasses almost topple but Magnus doesn’t care, can’t even hear the clatter of glass against wood through the wall of music.

Distantly, he marvels that he can hear anything at all, all of his attention suddenly landing on the Adonis standing in front of him sheepishly.

Raising his voice to be heard over the music, the most striking man Magnus has seen in ages reaches a hand out to clap against his shoulder in apology.

“Sorry,” he says and his voice, pitched low even in the din of the nightclub, curls around Magnus’s chest and squeezes. “You okay?”

Magnus waves him off before leaning forward. “Oh, I’ve never been better, darling.”

The man’s hand sweeps down until it’s wrapped around Magnus’s arm and he shifts closer. Magnus’s breath catches at the proximity and if he’s not mistaken-- and he never is, not about these sorts of things-- then he’s not the only one affected by the distance or lack thereof.

He blames the alcohol for the unforgivably blatant way he shudders as the man ducks in, mouth touching the shell of his ear as he murmurs, “I should’ve been watching where I was going. That was a close call, wasn't it?”

Grinning, Magnus pulls back to see bright eyes watching him. He studies the five o’clock shadow grazing the stranger’s jaw and barely represses another shudder of want. Absently, he wonders if he’s just found his distraction for the night, one last opportunity to throw caution to the wind until he has to shift gears tomorrow morning and focus on family expectations and avoiding Camille and making the last few months of college count in all the most terrifying ways before graduation comes and he’s officially thrust into the world.

“Not close enough,” he replies and he’s treated to an irresistible grin. Without thinking too much about it, Magnus takes one of the shot glasses and hands it to the man with an arch look.

A challenge. An offer.

The man accepts it with his own raised brow and Magnus picks up a second shot glass. The two of them toast and Magnus actually laughs out loud when the man winks at him before they throw it back.

The burn is welcome and the cinnamon warms his throat. Magnus wonders hazily what it would taste like on the stranger’s tongue. 

Laying a hand on the man’s shoulder, Magnus leans in and just barely feels more than hears a sharp intake of breath. He smiles a little to himself as he says, “What’s your name, pretty boy?”

“Alec,” is the easy answer and Magnus nods a little. The name fits even if it wasn’t what he was expecting. He’d been hoping for something a little more lascivious but it will do as well as any other.

 _At least he’s not a Chad_ , Magnus thinks with a little internal shrug.

He offers his own name but worries that it gets caught in the bass drop of the current song. In any case, Alec doesn’t ask him to repeat it and Magnus has better things to do than introduce himself a second time.

They take the second round of shots and Magnus doesn’t even spare a thought for his friends who are probably still waiting at their table in the corner. Ragnor will just say something under his breath when they catch lunch tomorrow and he sees Catarina on the dance floor with a brunette across the room.

That gives him an idea and Magnus takes Alec’s hands, stepping back towards the crowd of people dancing, fueled by alcohol and who knows what else.

Alec follows after him without hesitation and Magnus allows his eyes to dip down to his neck, down the where a scant sliver of chest is visible in the v of his unbuttoned shirt.

It’s nothing like Magnus’s-- whose navel is almost exposed-- but it’s enough to tease, to make Magnus want to lean in and place a kiss along the hollow of his throat, across the hint of exposed collarbone.

They dance and Magnus lets the music wrap around him and settle in his chest. It drowns everything else out and he focuses on the way Alec’s hands land on his hips, guiding him back against him-- offering but not insisting-- and heat is a low simmer in his gut at the wall of heat behind him, at the way he feels the ghost of Alec’s breath against his neck as he leans down and lays his lips against his pulse.

He loses time after that. They dance and Magnus is a little surprised at just how good Alec is at it. He grants him more access and shudders when one of Alec’s hands moves to his front, slipping inside his barely buttoned shirt to graze against bare skin.

There are more shots-- Alec’s round this time-- and Magnus realizes vodka tastes best when Alec’s the chaser.

Alec’s cheeks are flushed, his eyes a little hazy and Magnus figures he doesn’t look any better. He can’t focus on anything but the man in front of him and when he steps close into Alec’s space, until they’re sharing the same breath and he gets to watch the way Alec’s eyes darken, they way his mouth parts on a silent breath, Magnus wonders how he managed to hold out so long.

He feels Alec’s hand low on his back, urging him closer, while the other tilts his head up. Just the slightest bit, just enough so that Alec has clear and direct access to his mouth.

They kiss in the crowd of the club, drunk and unsteady, and Magnus’s muddled mind decides it’s the best goddamn kiss he’s ever had.

It starts lush and slow and so damn deep that Magnus feels his toes curl. Burying his hands in Alec’s hair, pulling just a little, Magnus’s grin breaks the kiss as he feels Alec groan into his mouth and pull him even closer, until the only thing separating them is the thin layers of their clothing.

When Alec pulls back, eyes blown wide, the iris just a thin hazel circle, and mouth swollen and bitten red, Magnus feels the tug of desire crash into him.

When his tongue darts out and swipes over his full lower lip, Magnus’s eyes trail the action and he feels time slow down, all of his thoughts focused on how he can get Alec impossibly closer.

His sharp intake of breath is drowned out by the music and when Alec leans close and asks, “Want to take this someplace a little quieter,” Magnus doesn’t even hesitate.

He takes Alec’s hand and they stumble through the club, landing outside and taking a greedy gulp of fresh, cool air that does nothing to stop the heat that’s been building since they ran into each other.

Alec hails a cab but it’s Magnus who reels off his address as they fall into the backseat, laughter turning to gasps that would no doubt embarrass the hell out of them in the daylight.

Magnus doesn’t care, though, that they’re acting so brazen, that the cab driver _definitely_ knows what’s going to happen as soon as they fall through the front door of his apartment.

It’s hard to care about anything except the scorching heat of Alec’s hands and the way he can draw such delicious little moans from the man next to him.

The rest of the night promises to be everything Magnus needs and so much more.

 

Magnus groans and buries his head in his pillow.

 _Fuck_ , he thinks. _That’s the last time I drink vodka_.

He knows it’s a lie as he says it but it still makes him feel better.

There’s a brief, silent respite where Magnus wonders what the hell had woken him up before he hears the pounding of his front door.

It’s in direct counterpoint to his raging goddamn headache.

Swearing a blue streak, Magnus swipes his pillow out from under his head just to cover himself with in it a desperate attempt to drown out the noise. That or suffocate himself, which might be preferable given how shitty he feels in the morning light.

In the next instant, though, he’s throwing the pillow to the floor and tossing the covers off of him as he looks around the room wildly.

He doesn’t see any remnants of the night before-- no clothes on the floor that don’t belong to him and no boy on the other side of the bed.

While a piece of him thinks it’s a shame-- he can’t help but wonder how Alec would look the morning after-- most of him is _exceedingly_ grateful.

Magnus doesn’t register that the knocking has stopped and so he’s stunned-- and not a little indignant-- when his father swings his bedroom door open.

Biting out a, “ _What the hell_ ,” Magnus scrambles to cover up his very naked body.

Asmodeus merely peers out the window, looking for all the world like the world’s most put-upon father.

“I don’t know what you did last night and I don’t want to know,” he starts pleasantly. “All I care about is that we have a meeting at the office in--” he looks at his watch, blank faced, “--one hour and it will take at least half that to get there.”

He leans on his cane heavily as he turns so that he’s facing Magnus. He loves his dad-- he does-- but no one can make him grit his teeth quite so hard as the man standing in front of him, imperious and calm no matter the situation.

A part of him wonders idly how long he has before he cracks a tooth in sheer annoyance.

Magnus places a foot on the rug next to his bed and moves to get up, hoping that will be enough of a hint for his father to leave and give him space to get ready-- with an eye on the clock, Magnus sees that he’ll need to literally run if he wants to do both his hair and makeup-- but Asmodeus just stands there and studies him like he’s a particularly dull-witted beetle under his microscope.

“Need I remind you that the company is throwing their full support towards this business deal? That I am personally handing over responsibility of this deal to you, my protege and eventual successor?”

“No, father,” Magnus rolls his eyes. “I’m well aware how important it is that I seal the deal with the Lightwoods by summer.”

Asmodeus doesn’t say anything for a moment, just keeps watching him impassively before nodding once. Magnus sees the smallest smile tilt the corner of his father’s mouth before Asmodeus relaxes a little and moves to leave.

“You are my pride and joy, Magnus, and I know college is a wonderful opportunity to explore all sorts of debauchery. I only hope that when the time comes, you are able to keep your eye on the prize.”

“Father, I’m in the top five percent of my class and I’m graduating summa cum laude in May. I think I’m fine.”

Asmodeus sniffs. “Just keep in mind what I said, son. I haven’t worked for thirty years just for my legacy to wash away on a wave of vodka.”

“Don’t worry," Magnus says sardonically. He glares across the room. "Lightwood will never know that you woke me up with twenty seven minutes to spare."

“The eldest Lightwood is the pinnacle of familial duty,” Asmodeus says thoughtfully, tapping his cane with his thumb. “You’d do well to pay attention to today’s meeting. It wouldn’t kill you to emulate him a little, would it?”

Sighing, Magnus runs a hand through his hair. “From what you’ve told me-- and what I’ve heard from friends-- Alexander Lightwood’s wound so tight that it’s a wonder how he gets out of bed in the morning. You know what they say about all work and no play.”

“That it makes a parent proud?”

“No,” Magnus laughs. He sees Asmodeus smile widen imperceptibly as he shakes his head at his antics. “They say they’re dead bores and I might play hard but we both know I’m doing just fine.”

“Whatever you say, dear,” Asmodeus retorts. “I expect you in the car by 7:30 sharp.”

“Then will you please get out so I can get up without traumatizing us both,” Magnus asks pleasantly.

He hears his father muffle a laugh before he’s turning on his heel and leaving without a backwards glance.

Magnus dashes out of bed and jumps in the shower. No matter how much he might like to linger under the hot spray, he’s out five minutes later. He downs two aspirin and a glass of water before brushing his teeth and the next twenty minutes are spent furiously blow drying and styling his hair and applying makeup.

He barely gives a thought to his outfit-- heresy on any other day-- and ends up going with a black and red blazer with black button down and slim cut dress pants.

Sliding into the back of the town car with ninety seconds to spare, Magnus takes a deep breath as Asmodeus hands him a coffee without looking up from his morning newspaper.

Taking it with a grateful look, Magnus sighs into the latte as he brings it up to his mouth.

It takes half an hour in New York rush hour traffic to get to to Bane Industries Headquarters and the two of them of gliding in the front doors a cool fifteen minutes before the meeting is set to start.

The elevator to Asmodeus’s office, where this first meeting will take place, moves quickly and Magnus and Asmodeus go over their notes one last time on the way up, reviewing everything they’ve been talking about over the past several months.

Both companies were tech giants and had been bitter rivals for years before a tentative peace had been brokered last year. Magnus isn’t exactly sure what had caused the change in their dynamic. All he knows is that this is his first test, his chance to prove that he’s up to taking over from Asmodeus once he retires.

He’s still not quite sure if he _wants_ to take over but he gives a little shrug as he reviews his notes one last time. All that matters is proving he can.

The secretary announces the Lightwoods arrival through the intercom-- Maryse and Alexander-- and Magnus straightens as he turns toward the door and shifts his expression into something pleasant.

He wonders how much of a dud his partner’s going to be for the next three months and just how painful his company will be.

Swinging the office door open, the secretary ushers in the two Lightwoods and Asmodeus moves forward, cane in hand, to greet their visitors.

“Maryse,” he starts smoothly. “I hope traffic wasn’t too terrible this morning.”

Magnus watches as the founder and CEO of Lightwood Enterprises smiles tightly and reaches out to shake hands with his father.

“Asmodeus. It was a pain in the ass as usual but we’re on time so that’s all that matters.”

Raising a brow at her reply, Magnus keeps the impassive smile on his face as she turns her stare to him. “And this is Magnus, I assume?”

“It is,” Asmodeus confirms. “My only son and heir.”

Maryse reaches out a hand and Magnus shakes it, a little surprised at the brisk firmness. “Mrs. Lightwood.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet the man who will be working so closely with Alec. You’re top of your class at NYU, right?”

“If all goes according to plan, I’ll be graduating with a 4.0 this spring.”

Nodding, Maryse merely replies, “Good,” before gesturing behind her. “This is my son, Alec. He’ll be your partner for this deal. I have every faith that the two of you will do us proud.”

Magnus flips his gaze from Maryse-- whose only mildly terrifying considering who his own father is-- only for his breathing to stop altogether once he sees the man who’d been standing quietly behind her.

His gaze meets Alec’s and Magnus can’t help but remember last night-- the shots, the dancing, the trail of beard burn he’d noticed on his thighs in the shower-- and he sees the way Alec’s own eyes widen, the way he swallows hard as he mechanically reaches out a hand for Magnus to shake.

Mind spinning with a rapid reassessment of Alexander Lightwood and just who he’d be joined at the hip with for the rest of the semester, Magnus grins and can’t help himself-- he winks at Alec as he slides his hand into a grip he remembers well from mere hours ago.

“A pleasure to meet you, darling. This should be fun.”

He’s not really surprised but he is disappointed when Alec just scowls. “It will certainly be interesting,” he says after clearing his throat.

Magnus swears he feels Alec’s thumb sweep across his as he pulls his hand back. 

The next two hours are mind-numbingly dull. Magnus pays attention through sheer force of will, though most of his focus is on Alec. 

There’s just something about the man that has Magnus working overtime to figure him out. Catching himself staring at Alec, who shoots him a narrow-eyed glare as Asmodeus talks about expected investment returns, Magnus shakes his head a little and stands up, going over to the coffee machine on the sideboard.

Back turned to the room, Magnus slowly pours cream into his coffee before raising the mug to his mouth and taking a lingering sip.

As Alec joins in the conversation, Magnus tilts his head and smiles to himself.

All of a sudden, this deal doesn’t seem like a death sentence. No, as Magnus looks over his shoulder and his gaze crashes against Alec’s, he’s decidedly excited for what the next few months promise.

He always did like a challenge.

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me on tumblr or twitter @carmenlire!


End file.
